On the morning of June 20th, 310 A.C., small notes slipped under the doors of the Allar residents of Digmaan Hall, and those out in the city. Invited to the Memory Garden, they find Marquis Harta sitting upon the stage, leant forward in a pensive, yet domineering fashion. As the last attendee arrives, the Marquis stands, poised as he so often was. Light from the morning sun shone through the vegetation between the two apartments, onto his black scales as he began. It glinted off every piece of gold and opulent, shining stone that the mosasaurian wore.
__________________
"You join me today to hear my words, fellow Hadarians; to listen to a Rama, once your captain, now a leader merely by my Kelahiran-infusion. But let it not be so. Let today mark a new beginning for the Hadarians of Crown Isle, and let today, mark the reestablishment of my Namasarang's ancient Digmaan. For today, I reclaim what my parent lost in the dark days of the Chrysant War.
"There are many of you who already call me Digmaan. Many who call me your lord, though I have thusfar been no such thing. Regalian nobility puts me in a position above a number of you, and while I have brought you many places in these last few months, none have put me in the position of Hadarian-styled Digmaan- or so it was that I thought."
He turned from the gathering, looking aside towards the mural of Modern Zzachok plastered on the wall nearby. A group of Allar, all having fun in the ballcourt. Harta looked them over with his predacious eyes, angling his bejewelled head as if to examine it, before looking back to the crowd before him. A similar examination flowed across the group, before he then raised his webbed hand to the air, and gripped it tightly, claws digging into the slippery, leathery scales of his palm.
"The Longmaw Company is no more. It once served as a vehicle for our unity, yet began to rot under the decaying institution of Crown Isle mercenary work. This role, as a vehicle for our unity, is not exclusive to a company of mercenaries- such a vehicle can come in many other forms. And it is for this reason that today, I, Harta Bahtera, enter the world anew, as Digmaan Harta Bahtera.
"It is the prerogative of a Digmaan to guide those below them in the pursuit of governance and administration, and to lead their Hadarians into a future worth being led to. As we speak now, two diametrically opposed camps exist in Hadar, seeking to, for the first time in our history, unify Hadar under the leadership of an ultimately Hadarian Digmaan. It is a moment which hitherto now has nothing of equivalence, no reference to look back upon to understand the path forward.
"For this reason, I stress the importance of our unity. Unity under leadership- under a Digmaan. We, the Allar diaspora of Crown Isle, have a unique place. We act as unofficial ambassadors of Hadar to the capital, to some of the most influential individuals in the whole of the Empire. That we would fracture now, when we present a bastion of pan-Hadarian unity, might seat us on a precipice of danger.
"Hadaria is on the cusp of unification. Of finishing a generation-long struggle to adapt and find our way in the new order of the world under the Regalian Empire- and enacting the most radical shift in Hadarian politics since our initial flight from Sendras and the unification under Empress Mananya-Manya. Which is why I am disappointed to today see some of my kin now waver in their pursuit of this goal."
__________________
The Rama-Nang scanned the crowd, as if searching for a particular quarry. His lower jaw moved, grinding jagged teeth together with scrapes which echoed off the wall behind himself. Letting silence steep the air of the crowd, he gazed over them in judgment- not quite fire. Tucking one muscled arm behind his back, the other pointed a clawed finger into the sky.
"The soil of Hadar has been made mud with the blood of untold thousands, hopeful that their cause might be the one to bring consolidation under their Digmaan. The common footsoldier: Ksat, Sang, even the Kuat who guard the Rama who lead them, have all died a thousand deaths to bring unity and order in their little corner of Hadar. Now, for the first time in all of history, we come to a moment in which the cycle of eternal violence and death might finally end under the rule of an Allar.
"I, Digmaan Harta Bahtera, have no illusions that many of you hold differing opinions on Hadar, and on the place of Hadarians within this grand Empire. From miniscule differences, to vast chasms of contradiction. Yet, there is one thing amongst us all that has always governed our choices, one thing which does not differ between any of us. We all hope for the best for our kin. We hope for their wellbeing, and their ultimate success. Align under my hope, and guidance. Hope, amongst all things, is one of the most Hadarian things there is. And yet…
"... there can be no happy ending for Hadaria"
Harta let those words hang in the air for a moment. His hand lowered from the sky, instead drawing to his chest, as if to be placed over his heart. The Allar today dressed in a Hadarian style, with a decorated sarong accented with gold and white-glass jewelry. Around the group, birds of the early morning chirped in the trees, with wings of a glossy violet-black showing the presence of Black Feathers. Harta's expression had grown serious, eyeridges scrunching his white-black scales.
"No such thing as an ending exists. Happy, or unhappy- the sun will always rise in the morrow upon our thousand islands. And even when it sets, the Chrysant Flowers still bloom. There will never be a happy ending in the Homeland, because happy endings exist only in the stories we tell our hatchlings.
"Could an ending even be acceptable? For hope to be a Hadarian thing, could we allow an ending to permeate across Hadar, happy or unhappy? Choices, decisions, actions we take- they are all predicated on the belief in hope. Hope for betterment, an easier life for our hatchlings, and peace in the Homeland and amongst our kin.
"No, it could not. We wish for no endings- but a dawn, a new chapter, in the infinite saga of Hadarian hope. Soon, we will come to a moment in which we have brought ourselves equal to the likes of Ithanians, to those of the Regalian Archipelago and Lusits. Yet that moment is not the end for us Hadarians- for there is no such thing. There shall come a wald of uncertainty as to our future as Hadaria becomes the fourth Heartland. But do not let that dissuade you.
"We shall be Regalians, as much as we shall be Hadarians. Let me guide you to act in the world as Regalians, with the help of Regalian Regality. For there is infinite beyond Hadar, and beyond Sendras. And whilst we care so deeply for our kin, we must remember that we can just the same apply our care, and our hope, to the world at large. We can take the best aspects of who we Hadarians are, and put them out into the world, as Prince Henry and Princess Ariane has shown possible with the distant, yet similarly situated Velheim of the north, and the Solvaan of the Regalian west."
The Digmaan paused, the last few sentences of his speech having grown invigorated and passionate. Emotion, muted and dulled by a sense of professionalism, slipped through in the heights and lows of his voice, bringing with it a deep sense of stern pride in the mission put forth. Drawing in a long breath, the mosasaur released it with a low, almost eerie, reptilian hiss.
__________________
"'Bless our homeland', so we shall all say forever. Hadar has liberated us from the depravity of ancient Sendras. It has allowed we Hadarians to bloom, and to grow, and to focus on hope and adaptation for a future differing from our past. For there is no past, and it holds no weight upon the present save for being its catalyst; do not allow it dominion over you.
"Join me, and join Digmaan Bahtera in sailing the ship of the Hadarian diaspora to the morrow. But it shall not wait for you if you hesitate, and cling to memories, or fading echoes of a past, long now gone. For a Hadarian Heartland means a great many changes, but it will never mean the abolishment of Kelahiran guidance, or our solidarity.
"Through tooth and claw Hadar once was divided and ruled. Let us bring Hadar and our kin to a morrow, in which it is the power of Hadarian voice which instead rules once more."
There was not a second the Digmaan waited. He turned, and began for the stairs off the stage, lumbering back into the domain of Digmaan Hall. Behind him trailed a familiar orange-yellow Kyat, carrying with them a small notebook which they scribbled frantically in as they followed. Harta did not wait for the crowd's response. The light began to fade, and summer clouds settled across the city, shortly thereafter followed by a warm rain.
In the coming days, that orange-yellow Kyat made the speech available to those who wished to read it, pinning it to a few notice boards around the city.
–
TD;DR
- Harta declares himself a Digmaan in the Hadarian style.
-Digmaan Bahtera calls for unity amongst Hadarians in making decisions regarding Hadaria. He calls for said unity to follow his Digmaan, Digmaan Bahtera.
-Digmaan Bahtera seeks the admission of Hadar as a Heartland alongside Ithania, Regalia, and Lusits. Allar are equal to Ailor socially, yet still exist as a peripheral colony politically. Digmaan Bahtera wishes for further Regalian integration, and hints at wishing for Hadarian modernization.
-Digmaan Bahtera can be contacted by letter (Ezalb#1047), and he will be spending more time in the Memory Garden should people wish to interact with him in a regular place. I am now looking for people to play characters in the Digmaan's periphery!
-Allar need not live in a bubble. Just as an Ailor culture, Allar are integrated deeply with the Empire. Playing an Allar, you bring a unique perspective to Regalia. Own it, play it, work it! Allar live in an era of integration. Harta wishes them to tackle this in their daily lives, but will not wait for those who cling to the past.
__________________
"You join me today to hear my words, fellow Hadarians; to listen to a Rama, once your captain, now a leader merely by my Kelahiran-infusion. But let it not be so. Let today mark a new beginning for the Hadarians of Crown Isle, and let today, mark the reestablishment of my Namasarang's ancient Digmaan. For today, I reclaim what my parent lost in the dark days of the Chrysant War.
"There are many of you who already call me Digmaan. Many who call me your lord, though I have thusfar been no such thing. Regalian nobility puts me in a position above a number of you, and while I have brought you many places in these last few months, none have put me in the position of Hadarian-styled Digmaan- or so it was that I thought."
He turned from the gathering, looking aside towards the mural of Modern Zzachok plastered on the wall nearby. A group of Allar, all having fun in the ballcourt. Harta looked them over with his predacious eyes, angling his bejewelled head as if to examine it, before looking back to the crowd before him. A similar examination flowed across the group, before he then raised his webbed hand to the air, and gripped it tightly, claws digging into the slippery, leathery scales of his palm.
"The Longmaw Company is no more. It once served as a vehicle for our unity, yet began to rot under the decaying institution of Crown Isle mercenary work. This role, as a vehicle for our unity, is not exclusive to a company of mercenaries- such a vehicle can come in many other forms. And it is for this reason that today, I, Harta Bahtera, enter the world anew, as Digmaan Harta Bahtera.
"It is the prerogative of a Digmaan to guide those below them in the pursuit of governance and administration, and to lead their Hadarians into a future worth being led to. As we speak now, two diametrically opposed camps exist in Hadar, seeking to, for the first time in our history, unify Hadar under the leadership of an ultimately Hadarian Digmaan. It is a moment which hitherto now has nothing of equivalence, no reference to look back upon to understand the path forward.
"For this reason, I stress the importance of our unity. Unity under leadership- under a Digmaan. We, the Allar diaspora of Crown Isle, have a unique place. We act as unofficial ambassadors of Hadar to the capital, to some of the most influential individuals in the whole of the Empire. That we would fracture now, when we present a bastion of pan-Hadarian unity, might seat us on a precipice of danger.
"Hadaria is on the cusp of unification. Of finishing a generation-long struggle to adapt and find our way in the new order of the world under the Regalian Empire- and enacting the most radical shift in Hadarian politics since our initial flight from Sendras and the unification under Empress Mananya-Manya. Which is why I am disappointed to today see some of my kin now waver in their pursuit of this goal."
__________________
The Rama-Nang scanned the crowd, as if searching for a particular quarry. His lower jaw moved, grinding jagged teeth together with scrapes which echoed off the wall behind himself. Letting silence steep the air of the crowd, he gazed over them in judgment- not quite fire. Tucking one muscled arm behind his back, the other pointed a clawed finger into the sky.
"The soil of Hadar has been made mud with the blood of untold thousands, hopeful that their cause might be the one to bring consolidation under their Digmaan. The common footsoldier: Ksat, Sang, even the Kuat who guard the Rama who lead them, have all died a thousand deaths to bring unity and order in their little corner of Hadar. Now, for the first time in all of history, we come to a moment in which the cycle of eternal violence and death might finally end under the rule of an Allar.
"I, Digmaan Harta Bahtera, have no illusions that many of you hold differing opinions on Hadar, and on the place of Hadarians within this grand Empire. From miniscule differences, to vast chasms of contradiction. Yet, there is one thing amongst us all that has always governed our choices, one thing which does not differ between any of us. We all hope for the best for our kin. We hope for their wellbeing, and their ultimate success. Align under my hope, and guidance. Hope, amongst all things, is one of the most Hadarian things there is. And yet…
"... there can be no happy ending for Hadaria"
Harta let those words hang in the air for a moment. His hand lowered from the sky, instead drawing to his chest, as if to be placed over his heart. The Allar today dressed in a Hadarian style, with a decorated sarong accented with gold and white-glass jewelry. Around the group, birds of the early morning chirped in the trees, with wings of a glossy violet-black showing the presence of Black Feathers. Harta's expression had grown serious, eyeridges scrunching his white-black scales.
"No such thing as an ending exists. Happy, or unhappy- the sun will always rise in the morrow upon our thousand islands. And even when it sets, the Chrysant Flowers still bloom. There will never be a happy ending in the Homeland, because happy endings exist only in the stories we tell our hatchlings.
"Could an ending even be acceptable? For hope to be a Hadarian thing, could we allow an ending to permeate across Hadar, happy or unhappy? Choices, decisions, actions we take- they are all predicated on the belief in hope. Hope for betterment, an easier life for our hatchlings, and peace in the Homeland and amongst our kin.
"No, it could not. We wish for no endings- but a dawn, a new chapter, in the infinite saga of Hadarian hope. Soon, we will come to a moment in which we have brought ourselves equal to the likes of Ithanians, to those of the Regalian Archipelago and Lusits. Yet that moment is not the end for us Hadarians- for there is no such thing. There shall come a wald of uncertainty as to our future as Hadaria becomes the fourth Heartland. But do not let that dissuade you.
"We shall be Regalians, as much as we shall be Hadarians. Let me guide you to act in the world as Regalians, with the help of Regalian Regality. For there is infinite beyond Hadar, and beyond Sendras. And whilst we care so deeply for our kin, we must remember that we can just the same apply our care, and our hope, to the world at large. We can take the best aspects of who we Hadarians are, and put them out into the world, as Prince Henry and Princess Ariane has shown possible with the distant, yet similarly situated Velheim of the north, and the Solvaan of the Regalian west."
The Digmaan paused, the last few sentences of his speech having grown invigorated and passionate. Emotion, muted and dulled by a sense of professionalism, slipped through in the heights and lows of his voice, bringing with it a deep sense of stern pride in the mission put forth. Drawing in a long breath, the mosasaur released it with a low, almost eerie, reptilian hiss.
__________________
"'Bless our homeland', so we shall all say forever. Hadar has liberated us from the depravity of ancient Sendras. It has allowed we Hadarians to bloom, and to grow, and to focus on hope and adaptation for a future differing from our past. For there is no past, and it holds no weight upon the present save for being its catalyst; do not allow it dominion over you.
"Join me, and join Digmaan Bahtera in sailing the ship of the Hadarian diaspora to the morrow. But it shall not wait for you if you hesitate, and cling to memories, or fading echoes of a past, long now gone. For a Hadarian Heartland means a great many changes, but it will never mean the abolishment of Kelahiran guidance, or our solidarity.
"Through tooth and claw Hadar once was divided and ruled. Let us bring Hadar and our kin to a morrow, in which it is the power of Hadarian voice which instead rules once more."
There was not a second the Digmaan waited. He turned, and began for the stairs off the stage, lumbering back into the domain of Digmaan Hall. Behind him trailed a familiar orange-yellow Kyat, carrying with them a small notebook which they scribbled frantically in as they followed. Harta did not wait for the crowd's response. The light began to fade, and summer clouds settled across the city, shortly thereafter followed by a warm rain.
In the coming days, that orange-yellow Kyat made the speech available to those who wished to read it, pinning it to a few notice boards around the city.
–
TD;DR
- Harta declares himself a Digmaan in the Hadarian style.
-Digmaan Bahtera calls for unity amongst Hadarians in making decisions regarding Hadaria. He calls for said unity to follow his Digmaan, Digmaan Bahtera.
-Digmaan Bahtera seeks the admission of Hadar as a Heartland alongside Ithania, Regalia, and Lusits. Allar are equal to Ailor socially, yet still exist as a peripheral colony politically. Digmaan Bahtera wishes for further Regalian integration, and hints at wishing for Hadarian modernization.
-Digmaan Bahtera can be contacted by letter (Ezalb#1047), and he will be spending more time in the Memory Garden should people wish to interact with him in a regular place. I am now looking for people to play characters in the Digmaan's periphery!
-Allar need not live in a bubble. Just as an Ailor culture, Allar are integrated deeply with the Empire. Playing an Allar, you bring a unique perspective to Regalia. Own it, play it, work it! Allar live in an era of integration. Harta wishes them to tackle this in their daily lives, but will not wait for those who cling to the past.
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